The sound of someone clearing her throat made Annie glance up and straighten.
Mrs. Kearney stood on the other side of the counter. She drew herself up to her full, imposing height, looking rather like a beady-eyed crow in her black dress, black bonnet, and black cape, a purse trimmed in jet beads clutched in front of her. “Where is Rebecca?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.” Annie put her sketch pad away. “Rebecca’s busy this morning.”
“I see. And when do you expect her to return?” As she spoke, Mrs. Kearney allowed her spectacles to slide down her long nose, looking at Annie with an expression of distaste as if she were a half-clad dancing girl who belonged in a cheap burlesque show.
Annie looked down, her hands wringing the white apron she wore over her dress of checked green gingham. All at once, she felt like sinking down behind the counter.
It had taken her only a few days to settle back into the life of the town—but it wasn’t quite like it had been before. This time, everyone knew the truth about who she was and what she had done before she arrived in Eminence. During the past week, she’d been surprised by the way many townsfolk had accepted her presence among them.
And she hadn’t been surprised that others—like Mrs. Kearney—had made it clear they would no longer shop in Rebecca’s store when Annie was there. They didn’t want to be waited on by someone like her. A wanted criminal. The daughter of a whore.
A woman who had spent three years as a rich man’s mistress.
Annie kept her eyes downcast. “Rebecca will be busy in the storeroom most of the day.”
Since it was Saturday, she and Rebecca had both arrived at six in the morning, to greet the homesteaders who came in once a week to trade their surplus eggs and butter, or a cured ham from their smokehouse, or some fresh-plucked chickens for goods they needed. Folks had harvested their gardens and butchered their animals in the fall, so everyone’s fruit cellars were filled with cured meats and preserved fruits and vegetables.
The last mule train of the season hadn’t been able to get through, but the people of Eminence had more than enough provisions to last the winter.
Rising so early had brought on one of Rebecca’s headaches, and she had decided to work in the darkened back room, organizing the foodstuffs and making an inventory list, rather than in the lamplit brightness of the store.
Mrs. Kearney pulled on her black knitted gloves. “Perhaps I’ll come back another day,” she said in a voice that was even frostier than the temperature outside.
“I’d be happy to help you,” Annie offered.
“You?” The woman sounded offended by the very idea. “I hardly want someone like you touching food that I’ll be serving my guests.”
Her tone made Annie flinch, flooding her with memories of St. Charles. All her life, people like this had made her feel worthless. Annie had long ago gotten in the habit of stepping aside when she saw them coming, keeping her gaze lowered, getting out of their way to avoid the whispers and name-calling.
But this wasn’t St. Charles.
And she wasn’t willing to just step out of the way anymore.
Slowly, she lifted her head and met Mrs. Kearney’s disapproving stare. “Whatever it is you need, ma’am,” Annie said politely, “I can help you with it. Tomorrow’s Sunday, so we’ll be closed, but if you’d rather wait until Monday...”
Mrs. Kearney pursed her lips—which, judging from the deep lines around her mouth, she did often. “Indeed, I believe I will.” With a sniff, she turned and stalked away.
Before she could reach the door, it opened to admit Lucas and Travis, along with a blast of wintry wind.
“Marshal.” Mrs. Kearney planted herself in his path, gesturing toward Annie with her black purse. “Isn’t our town council paying you to keep our streets safe from people like this... woman? She’s a known criminal. I really don’t think she should be walking around free. And she certainly shouldn’t be near these children—”
“She’s hardly a danger to them, ma’am.” Lucas took off his hat and gloves.
“But she is not at all the sort of person who... who...”
“Ma’am, she’s been working here for a week, and so far she hasn’t committed one single crime.” From his expression and his tone, he seemed to be in another of his thorny moods. “Now, she starts shooting up the town, or robs the bank, or disturbs the peace in any way, you be sure and let me know.”
“Well, I... hmph!” With a swirl of her black cloak, Mrs. Kearney left.
Travis flattened himself against the counter as she swept past him and out the door. Then he chuckled, shaking his head. “That old bat Kearney always looks like she just swallowed a gulp of hair tonic.”
Annie regarded Lucas in surprise as he walked toward her. “Thank you,” she said, “for defending me.”
“Just doing my duty to keep things peaceful around here.” He jammed his gloves into the pockets of his drover’s coat, tossed his hat on the counter, and headed for the stove in the center of the store, where he poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot she kept brewing for customers.
Earlier this week, Lucas had visited Mr. Hazelgreen and accepted the town council’s offer of a job, since his money wouldn’t hold out all winter. Each day—morning, afternoon, and evening—he and Travis had been making the rounds of the various shops and buildings in town.
The rest of his time, Lucas spent here, keeping an eye on her and keeping watch over her. Though so far, no more bounty hunters had appeared.
Travis pilfered a brown-and-white-striped horehound stick from a candy jar as he came toward the back counter. “We had a real eventful patrol this morning.” He leaned his elbows on the counter, grinning broadly as he gave her all the news. “Chased a stray dog that got loose from a homesteader. Then a lady complained that her neighbor ain’t cleaned the fall leaves off his chimney yet—we got a town ordinance against blocked chimneys. Fire hazard. Had to explain it to the feller—”
“And then Cyrus Hazelgreen asked us to chip the icicles off the eaves of his bank,” Lucas said as he joined them, “because he considered them a threat to the safety of the citizenry.” Sighing, he took a drink from his coffee. He seemed bored to distraction by the same events Travis considered so exciting.
Then again, the boy seemed to find everything exciting, now that he wore a badge. The star bearing the words EMINENCE, COLO. above the words DEPUTY MARSHAL had him walking around like he was ten feet tall—even though it had been cut from the bottom of a coffee tin and the lettering was just painted on.
Lucas had given him the badge the day he himself became town marshal, officially swearing Travis in as a deputy. He’d wanted to honor the boy for being injured in the line of duty.
But true to his taciturn nature, Lucas hadn’t mentioned it to her. Travis had been the one who related the story proudly, the first day he appeared in the store at Lucas’s side.
“Travis,” Annie said, wiping her hands on her apron, “Rebecca asked if I would send you back to the storeroom when you get a chance. She’s got some heavy barrels that need to be moved, if you could help.”
“Aw, Miss Sutton.” Travis polished his badge with a corner of his shirt. “I’m a lawman now—”
“He’ll be glad to.” Lucas shrugged when the boy frowned at him. “Like I said, kid, it ain’t all showdowns and shoot-outs. You signed on to serve the people of this town. Go on back.”
Travis sighed in protest, but followed his boss’s orders and ambled off toward the storeroom.
Lucas leaned on the counter toward Annie and set his coffee cup down, the steam from the dark brew rising between them.
She tensed. For three weeks, they hadn’t even touched, had come no closer to each other than the distance of this countertop. But every time he was near, her heart beat a little faster and an unsettling warmth shimmered through her.
Annie fought to ignore the feeling, irritated that she had so little control over her response to the man. She couldn’t even help
noticing how handsome he looked today, wearing a black vest and a simple white shirt beneath his drover’s coat, the fabric straining over his broad chest. The colors set off his tanned skin and dark hair, and the silver of the badge he always wore lately.
“Didn’t hear you leave this morning,” he said finally, with a hint of annoyance. “You were already gone when I woke up.”
“It’s Saturday. I had to be here at six.” She couldn’t take her gaze from his hands, watching him slowly stroke his thumb back and forth along the rim of his cup—an absent gesture that for some reason brought an uncomfortable, fluttery sensation to her stomach. “I didn’t see a reason to bother you at the crack of dawn. Besides, I thought you decided to leave the cell unlocked so I could come and go—”
“I said you could help out at the store. I didn’t say you could just come and go without a word to me.”
Annie bit back a frustrated sigh. They stood there for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes, the hum of conversation and children’s laughter filling the store around them. She caught the scent of the soap he had used to shave this morning, woodsy and warm and...
She turned away to open a display case full of spice tins, deciding that they needed to be rearranged. She was not going to let Lucas upset her. The man was truly impossible. Unyielding. Unreasonable.
“Speaking of coming and going,” he said, “on my way out this morning, I tripped on a woolen runner by the front desk. Never noticed it before—just like the table and chairs that suddenly appeared in the front room yesterday. And the food and pots in the kitchen—”
“I want to start making my own meals.” She set a handful of spice tins on the counter. “There’s no reason for others to keep cooking for me when I’m perfectly capable of cooking for myself. And there wasn’t a table to eat at, so Rebecca found one in one of the abandoned buildings—”
“Along with the rug in front of the fireplace, and the settee with the embroidered pillows, and the curtains?” He scowled at her. “Curtains. With lace on them. It’s like a troop of magical elves has been visiting every day, decorating my jail.”
“I didn’t do it to annoy you,” she said in exasperation. “The room was just so empty, with nothing but a scaffolding in it. I thought it might be nice to make it a little more comfortable—”
“A jail isn’t supposed to be comfortable. And a jail is no place for embroidered pillows. Or lace.” A glint of suspicion came into his eyes. “And what, exactly, does a settee have to do with cooking or eating meals?”
“I... well...” Annie hesitated, toying with a small tin of cloves in her hand, then decided it was time to confess. In a fit of pique a couple of days ago, she had planned a small act of rebellion. “Tomorrow’s Sunday, so I don’t have to work... and Katja Gottfried stopped by the store to invite me to a card party at her house—”
“No.”
“I knew you would say that. I told her I wasn’t allowed to leave the jail, so Katja suggested... she thought maybe...” Annie hurried to explain. “It would just be for a couple of hours, and we won’t bother you. You’ll probably be out patrolling with Travis. She’s going to bring tea and cakes, and a few of her friends are coming over—”
“No.” He shook his head. “They’re not.”
“But it would just be—”
“Antoinette, the answer is no.”
Annie shut the door of the display case a bit too sharply. “Of course. You’re right. What was I thinking? You never know where an afternoon tea might lead. A knitting bee. A box supper. All sorts of notorious activities.”
He shook his head at her sarcasm. “No card parties. No bees. And no more decorating the jail.” He picked up his coffee cup and started to turn away.
“Part of me actually thought you might understand,” she said, anger and hurt making her voice shake. “How much I’ve always wanted to have friends, to be invited to things like card parties.”
Their gazes met, his expression unreadable.
Annie looked down at the counter. “But it probably just seems silly to you,” she finished softly.
He didn’t reply for a moment.
“I’m not doing this to hurt you,” he said a bit more gently.
“Then why?” she asked in frustration, lifting her head.
“I have... obligations.” He seemed to struggle to say the word. “I can’t just forget them because I have...”
He stopped, as if unwilling—or unable—to explain further. An awkward silence fell between them. Then Lucas muttered an oath and turned away.
One of the prospectors waved him over to the potbellied stove. “Marshal, you want to get beat at checkers again?”
Lucas took off his coat, looking grateful for the distraction. “Depends, Ritter. We playing for pinto beans or real money today?”
One of the farmers surrendered a seat next to the cracker barrel, where the men had their own territory staked out, with comfortable chairs borrowed from one of the town’s abandoned buildings, a spittoon nearby, and a large tin of chewing tobacco to share.
Annie shook her head, not even sure why she kept arguing with her jailer.
His reasons for his actions were always the same: his duty and the law. Right and wrong.
Nothing’s changed.
He seemed determined to drive that point home at every opportunity—as if she needed reminders that she was still in custody. As if a day went by that she didn’t dread what was going to happen when he took her back to Missouri to face a judge... and a lifetime behind bars.
Her spirits even lower than before, Annie returned to her work. She was helping Rebecca organize the store into departments—grocery items on one side, dry goods in another, chewing tobacco and cigarettes in their own section, toys on a low shelf where they would appeal to children.
Rebecca knew where every last thing was in the shop, down to the smallest tea leaf and sewing needle, but with her eyesight so poor, she sometimes had to struggle and search among the disorderly jumble to find a particular item for a customer. Annie wanted to make things easier for everyone.
Especially since she wouldn’t always be here to help.
Only until spring.
~ ~ ~
Steam fogged the front windows of the darkened hotel as Lucas prowled the main room in the middle of the night, barefoot, dressed only in his black trousers. Annie was asleep in her suite.
He knew because her light had gone out an hour ago. He knew that because he kept glancing at the closed door of the sitting room now and then as he walked past, back and forth.
Like he had been doing almost every night.
God Almighty, he had hoped that moving to a separate room down the hall would help. He had hoped that staying out of her suite, not locking her cell door, not even touching her would help.
But he still found himself lying in bed after dark, listening to the pounding of his own heartbeat.
She was still his last thought every night and his first thought every morning.
He glanced at her door again. Since their argument in the general store this morning, she hadn’t spoke one word to him. Had shut herself in her suite after supper. The sitting room door might even be locked... though he hadn’t checked to see if it was.
The urge to walk over and try the knob was so strong it made his hand shake.
He forced himself to turn around. During the day, he managed to find enough distractions to keep his mind occupied and keep her at arm’s length.
But at night, when the two of them were alone together...
Lucas stalked over to the empty fireplace, and sat on the camelback settee in front of it. The braided rug felt scratchy beneath his feet. He slumped back and picked up the lacy needlepoint pillow from one corner of the couch.
He lifted the pillow toward him, could catch the faint, summery scent of meadow herbs, the scent of her hair.
This evening, just after sundown, he’d returned from his last patrol with Travis to find that she’d fallen asleep
here, curled up in front of the fire, a book in her hand.
And he’d sat down and just looked at her for the longest time, feeling like he did now. All tangled up inside.
Feeling like hell because she seemed so alone, and he’d denied her permission for a card party tomorrow.
Lucas dropped the pillow as if it burned his fingers. If he felt like hell about ruining Annie’s afternoon tea, how was he going to feel when he handed her over to the constables in St. Charles?
He stood up and started pacing again.
Women were trouble. No question about it. Trouble. Something Lucas usually tried to avoid. A federal marshal had enough of it in his life without going out and finding himself more. Like by getting all mixed up with a woman.
Especially a woman who was in his custody. A woman he never should have allowed himself to hold in his arms, or kiss.
Or take to bed.
Every drop of his blood heated at the memory that had made his nights restless for three weeks now: the two of them together. The feel of her naked skin against his, the soft perfection of her in his arms.
The sweet pressure of her body holding him so tight, deep inside her.
His throat went dry.
She was his prisoner.
But she wasn’t guilty of the crime she was charged with.
She had been his brother’s mistress for three years.
Even those words no longer held the firepower they once had.
Lucas walked to the front windows, looked out through the curtains at the snowy street. He flattened his palm against the cold window and refocused his eyes, looking at his own reflection in the glass.
He thought of his family, waiting back in St. Charles. Thought of his sisters, Callie and Eden and Faith. And Olivia. Her children. All depending on him. Waiting for him to deliver them justice. How could he betray their trust in him?
But for the first time in his life, he found himself wondering about the meaning of the word justice.
Annie wasn’t a murderer. Was it right to turn her over to a court that would sentence her to life in prison? Was that justice?
He closed his eyes, his fingers curling into a fist. More and more, it was becoming important to him to keep Annie safe. To protect her.
After Sundown Page 26
